of the best man
she had ever known was bestowed upon her, and in his hopes he saw
doubtless a future when she would have learnt to return his love. "And
I never shall," thought Diana. "Never, as long as I live. I wonder if I
shall get to hate him because I am obliged to live with him? All the
heart I have is Evan's, and will be Evan's; it don't make any
difference that he was not worthy of me, as I suppose he wasn't; I have
given, and I cannot take back. And now I must live with this other
man!"--Diana shuddered already.

She shed no tears. Happy are they whose grief can flow; part of the
oppression, at least, flows off with tears, if not part of the pain.
Eyes wide open, staring out into the moonlight; a rigid face, from
which the colour gradually ebbed and ebbed away, more and more; so
Diana kept the watch of her bridal eve. As the moon got higher, and the
world lay clearer revealed under its light, shadows grew more defined,
and objects more recognisable, it seemed as if in due proportion the
life before Diana's mental vision opened and displayed itself, plainer
and clearer; as she saw one, she saw the other. If Diana had been a
woman of the world, her strength of character would have availed to do
what many a woman of the world has not the force for; she would have
drawn back at the last minute and declined to fulfil her engagement.
But in the sphere of Diana's experience, such a thing was unheard of.
All the proprieties, all the conditions of the social life that was
known to her, forbade even the thought; and the thought never came to
her. She felt just as much bound, that is, as irrecoverably, as she
would be twenty-four hours later. But she was like a caged wild animal.
The view of the sweet moonlit country became unbearable at last, and
she walked up and down her floor; she had a vague idea of tiring
herself so that she could sleep. She did get tired of walking, but no
sleep came; and at last she sat down again before her window to watch
another change that was coming over the landscape. The moon was down,
and a cool grey light, very unlike her soft glamour, was stealing into
the sky and upon the world. Yes, the day was coming; the clear light of
a matter-of-fact, work-a-day creation. It was coming, and she must meet
it, and march on in the procession of life, which would leave no one
out. If she could go alone! But she must walk by another's side now.
And to that other, the light of this grey dawn, if he saw